Legend Hunter

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  He tore at the knots around her wrists and only had a second to note the abrasions there before she grabbed his hand.

  “Come with me.” She yanked on his hand. “We have to hide.”

  He stared at her. McBride shook his head and glared at them. Ben frowned. “Why?”

  The minute the word was out of his mouth, he heard the mournful cry from that first night. “Please.” She pulled on his hand and Ben followed her. McBride started to follow but Kiera sprinted down the trail, not toward Fanning Creek and the Sheriff, but further up the peak.

  Hidden among the trees, a crevice opened in the rocks and a rough trail led to a steep climb. Kiera broke through the trees and let Ben pass her as she seemed to wait. When she heard a rustling in the branches, she put her foot out and kicked as hard as she could. McBride’s cry echoed on the rocks.

  She didn’t wait but whirled around and climbed toward the peak. “Hurry,” she whispered to Ben.

  “Why are we running?” he asked her as he followed her. “I could have kicked his ass.”

  “Trust me on this,” was all she said, without turning around to look at him.

  The reached another hidden plateau further up the mountain and Ben gazed around him in wonder.

  In perfect rows, rough hewn stones marked the ground. One by one, Ben studied them in the fading light and noted that they were man-made, not natural. He glanced at Kiera.

  “You found this before.”

  She nodded. The mournful cry split the silence and sounded close. Ben studied the surrounding rock and wondered if there was a creature, a sad remnant of man that made the sound.

  “Tell me,” he said quietly.

  She studied him for a moment and then sat down under one of the trees that loomed over the stones. “I found a journal, written by a man who’d been lost in the Trinity Alps for weeks. His body was never found, but his journal was preserved.” Kiera kept her gaze on the trail. “It’s a well known journal, but not for Bigfoot lore. Most read it in hopes of finding the gold he had with him that was also never found.” She gave him a quick glance. “I stumbled across it when I was studying maps.” Pain drifted over her bruised and battered features. “I knew. I knew this was the evidence we’d been seeking. This place.” She stared around at the stones and the flowers. “Graves. These are graves, Ben.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your father?” Ben asked her but he was pretty sure he knew.

  Her breath caught. “That was the day I discovered my father forging that photograph.” Her tone reeked of bitterness. “Everything I believed about him died that day. Everything.”

  Ben’s heart ached for her. “So you went up by yourself.”

  “Yes.” Her gaze returned to the crevice in the rock and the trail there.

  “What happened, Kiera?” He kept his voice gentle.

  “Something—” She frowned. “Someone watched me. Watched over me, really.” Her gaze pleaded with him. “I was thirteen and stupid. My mule died and a storm came in. I was stranded when Fanning Creek overflowed and I was too weak to carry very much.” It had grown very dark now and Ben couldn’t read her expression. “I made it here, to these stones. That mournful cry frightened me, and I started to cry.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Do you think so? Well, I didn’t. I felt like a fool.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “That’s the unbelievable part.” The words came slowly. “I stumbled and fell down this slope,” she pointed to the western edge. “The last thing I remember is tumbling end over end. I must have hit my head because when I woke up, I was on the western side of Fanning Creek and half way down a trail that ran by Fanning Lake. In the night, someone had carried me twelve miles in the dark.” Even in the dark, he could see her chin come up. “I didn’t think anyone would believe me so I never told anyone. Even Dodo, who found me that afternoon. I’d collapsed after hiking another five miles to get out.” She waved at the stones. “Whoever tends these graves saved my life. I wasn’t going to repay that with an invasion of Legend Hunters.”

  “So you kept the secret. But you came back here and studied it, didn’t you?”

  She was silent for a bit. “Yes. I did.” She gazed at the surrounding rocks. “But only twice. It’s too…eerie. I don’t like being watched.”

  A chill climbed along Ben’s spine. “Have you ever seen what watches you?”

  “No. For all I know, it could be somebody who lives up here. I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying.” He was certain of it. Part of him was hurt, but part of him understood she protected this secret with all her heart.

  She sprang to her feet and swayed. Ben caught her as her knees buckled. He gave her a little of the water from his canteen still clipped to his jeans. “I need to get you food.” He cradled her head on his chest and brushed the hair from her forehead.

  “Jeremy will find us,” she murmured.

  He stroked her head and she closed her eyes. “I thought I was going to die.” She told him and he shushed her. But her eyes flew open and gazed into his, their expression hard to read in the darkness. “I don’t want to die, Ben. Because of you.”

  All he could do is stare at her. “Me?”

  She didn’t answer and he realized she’d passed out. His hand stroked her cheek, tenderness overpowering him as he readjusted all his thinking around this strong, courageous woman who held his heart.

  Chapter Fourteen

  An hour passed, and Ben fought to stay awake. Why hadn’t McBride come after them immediately? He didn’t know, but he was grateful for the reprieve. McBride was still out there searching for them. And something else. Since they’d entered the clearing, he had that uncomfortable feeling he was very familiar with. They were being watched.

  Often his paranormal investigations included this feeling. His findings with hauntings and other directed energy convinced him that there were forces beyond human understanding. And this didn’t feel human, not by a long shot.

  It wasn’t an animal either. A demon? Maybe. He’d seen demonic possession before. A ghost? No, it didn’t feel like a ghost. But some kind of energy existed out there and watched.

  A rustle along the path got Ben’s instant attention. Kiera barely stirred when Ben tensed. In the darkness, Ben was blind. He had to rely on his sense of sound. The footsteps stumbled and crunched rocks beneath them. A dark form broke out from the trees and crept on the path.

  Ben eased Kiera off his lap and crouched in front of her under the tree. The form tripped and cursed.

  McBride.

  His hand was raised. Either he’d recovered his gun or gotten another one. He’d had plenty of time to retrieve the one that had tumbled down the rocks. Ben tried to think. Would he have a chance to rush the man again? He rocked back on his heels and prepared to tackle the man.

  But someone had crept up behind him and everything went black.

  *

  With a dry mouth and a fuzzy head, Kiera’s eyes blinked as noise penetrated her consciousness. Someone was screaming. A lot. It hurt her head. She wished they would stop.

  Her eyes fluttered open and tried to adjust to the dark. Beside her, Ben lay unconscious and fear sliced through her. Adrenaline spiked her mind and she was able to focus for a brief moment.

  The moonlight, bright and clear, shone on the grass beyond the cluster of trees. In the clearing, among the wild flowers, two shapes struggled. One was large, tall, massive. The other was squirming in the larger one’s grip with a gun still aimed in its hand. The loud blast from the gun made Kiera’s ears ring and the agonized cry that followed jangled her nerves.

  A crack, a gargle, and then silence descended. As her vision tunneled and oblivion swept over her, she saw the larger figure toss the smaller one like a rag doll onto the ground. Finally, everything went black.

  * * * *

  The birds chirped and the sun wasn’t visible on the horizon yet. The night released its hold reluctantly and the cold seeped through Ben’
s skin. It was early morning. His hand flew to his neck and he found the tender spots there where someone had pressed just enough to send him out cold.

  Kiera lay on her back with one leg at an angle. Her face was pale and dark smudges marked the skin under her eyes. She didn’t look great. She needed medical attention.

  Unlike the next person Ben noticed. On the grass, lay John McBride, his neck twisted at a horrible angle. His dead eyes stared at the beautiful blue sky. Ben was sure he hadn’t killed the man. Whoever knocked him out had fought and killed John McBride.

  Dizzy, but motivated, Ben lifted Kiera into his weary arms. He had to get her back down to the main trail and find his discarded radio. If he could locate the Sheriff, Kiera would be okay.

  Kiera didn’t stir as he stumbled down the path and pulled her through the trees onto Dead Line Trail. He carried her to the small plateau where he and McBride had fought and laid her down.

  Then, with determination, he dragged John McBride’s dead body down from the peak and laid it up the trail beyond the entrance to the secret graves. He stumbled back to Kiera and searched the ground until he found the radio.

  His voice was husky and strained as he called for the Sheriff. “Sheriff Covey, come in. Over.”

  His radio was dead.

  He dropped to his knees beside Kiera and wondered how he was going to carry her down that mountain. His jaw tightened and his hands shook. She was dehydrated and blood still oozed from scratches and wounds she’d received. The bruises on her face had darkened and made her white face seem paler.

  For the first time in his life, Ben prayed. How long he knelt there, he didn’t know, but a breeze kicked up and he heard a sound. It was faint, but clear. “Ben Harmon! Ben Harmon!”

  Relief made him laugh out loud, and he raised his voice to shout. “We’re here! Up here!”

  Not too long later, but an eternity to Ben, Sheriff Covey rounded the corner on the trail. “I’d just about given up on you,” he said as his dark face smiled with relief.

  The sheriff knelt beside Kiera. He clicked his radio and called for his medical team. “She’s okay. I think we can carry her out. Can you make it on your own?”

  “I think so.” He got unsteadily to his feet.

  “When I saw you wave, I thought I was seeing things.”

  Ben stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Sheriff Covey’s dark eyes sharpened and he frowned. “I was heading down the trail back to camp after searching up here for over four hours. Then, I saw you at the top here and you waved and called to me.”

  A cold fist gripped Ben’s heart. “That wasn’t me.”

  “Well, who the hell was it?”

  “Good question, Sheriff.”

  The rest of the search team arrived and revived Kiera as they gave her first aid and water. The first words she said when she regained her senses was, “John McBride is dead, Jeremy. He kidnapped me and he’s dead.”

  The Sheriff didn’t say anything to that. “Where’s his body? We have to carry it down to Fanning Creek and get it out of here.”

  “It’s up the trail about six hundred feet.” Ben told him.

  Kiera’s head snapped up. “But—”

  “I don’t know what happened to him, Sheriff.” Ben said truthfully. “I found him that way.” Which was also the truth.

  “But—” Kiera said again.

  Ben caught her eye and shook his head. “You’re starting to sound like a motor boat.”

  She shut up.

  Jeremy shot a glance between the both of them. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Kiera closed her eyes. “I don’t think I know what’s going on.”

  Jeremy pinned Ben with his gaze and Ben shrugged.

  But as they headed out of the wilderness, Ben had that crawling sensation of being watched yet again.

  * * * *

  The trip out of the mountains was exhausting and grueling. Ben was sore and had a severe headache. He wanted this over with and off the damn mountain. Kiera was pale and bruised as the men the Sheriff had brought with him carried her to Fanning Creek on a stretcher. They took the Dead Line Trail down to Fanning Creek and Jeremy called for a helicopter to come retrieve her.

  They passed John McBride’s body, and Kiera stared with a million questions in her eyes, but Ben avoided her gaze. Sheriff Covey checked him and two of his men carried him down on another stretcher.

  As they traveled down the steep trail, Ben thought they must look very strange. Seven Deputy Sheriffs, a dead body, a beat up cartographer, and a paranormal expert who now had information he didn’t know if he should use or not.

  Someone knocked him out. Someone killed John McBride. And someone was in those mountains. He shot a glance up at the peak of Little Trinity as they descended the trail. When his gaze returned to the road ahead, he found Kiera’s gaze on him. She, too, glanced at the peak and then to the trail in front of them. He wondered if she could tell what he’d decided.

  For years, she’d hidden the location of those stones. Ben was sure he knew why. If those stones were revealed, the area would be flooded with Bigfoot seekers. Though legitimate scientists would study the area and ultimately discover the origin and purpose of the stones, the unscrupulous would also descend. Kiera would stop that at all costs.

  Would he?

  What was he going to write in his book? If he revealed what he’d seen on Little Trinity, the years of silence Kiera maintained in the face of huge adversity would have been for nothing. And worse, if he printed the story of John McBride’s death, Kiera would probably hate him. Bigfoot, even if that wasn’t what killed McBride, would be feared and reviled. The mob that Kiera had calmed at Laugherty’s the few days before would demand justice.

  He’d already made a tenuous decision. When he moved McBride’s body onto the main trail and protected the hidden plateau, he took a fatal step towards keeping Kiera’s secret. It chafed a little. He wanted to investigate, study, dig, and he was hampered by his love for a woman who probably wouldn’t have anything to do with him.

  His publisher wasn’t going to be happy. Of course, he had the recordings of the vocalizations and photographs of footprints. The truth was John McBride created some of those things and Ben thought he could prove it. To debunk the Bigfoot legend would sell books. And what happened up there, at the peak, wasn’t all that clear anyway.

  What did Kiera want him to do? He was pretty sure she’d want the whole thing debunked and her name kept out of it. But would that make things worse? He wasn’t sure. Any more than he was sure about how Kiera felt about him. She seemed to care about him. He just wasn’t sure that would be enough for him, since he was passionately in love with her.

  The helicopter arrived a few hours after the strange group reached Fanning Creek. He started at it as the whirling blades disappeared in the distance. Kiera’s gaze as they loaded her into the basket to lift her into the helicopter had questions but he didn’t have any answers for her.

  Jeremy didn’t say much to him as they hiked out.

  They reached the trailhead as the evening light dimmed the trail. The Sheriff didn’t have to ask and drove Ben to where Kiera was being treated.

  A whirlwind of activity followed as the evening went on. Reporters swarmed the small clinic where Kiera was being treated for dehydration, and Ben had to hold them off. She’d been pretty beat up and the doctors sedated her heavily for forty-eight hours. By the time Ben and Jeremy arrived, the reporters were impatient. He told them as little as possible and let the Sheriff give them specifics. Amanda showed up in the crowd of human sharks and limped forward as Sheriff Covey chased off the other reporters.

  “Are you okay?” She asked the Sheriff.

  Ben noted Covey’s jaw clenched. “What are you doing here? Should you be walking on that leg?”

  “I have a cast on and you haven’t answered my question. Are you okay?” she demanded with her blue eyes narrowed on his face.

  “I�
�m tired. Does that answer your question?”

  “Not really. How is Kiera?”

  The Sheriff didn’t answer her, just stared at her with a rock, hard gaze. She sighed. “I’m not here as a reporter. I’m here as a friend. Let me talk to her.”

  “No. No one talks to her,” Covey answered. “It’s late. You should go home.”

  Amanda’s eyebrows climbed to her hairline. “Home? You mean your house?”

  The Sheriff frowned. “That’s what I said.”

  Ben bit his lip to keep from laughing, and Amanda glared at the Sheriff. They both seemed to forget he was standing there. Amanda limped closer to the Sheriff. “I have a home. In Eureka.”

  “You have a home with me.” His gruff voice sounded sharp and angry.

  “And what does that mean?” Amanda’s lips tightened. “You can’t just take over like that. I’m not—”

  She never got the chance to finish that sentence, since the Sheriff gripped her upper arms and kissed her.

  Ben decided to exit the scene.

  When he tip-toed into Kiera’s cubicle, he found her asleep. He grabbed a stool and sat beside her. With a tentative hand, he took her hand in his and stroked the back of her fingers with his thumb. She’d come to mean so much to him. The whole mess seemed to fade into the background as he held her hand. His book didn’t matter. Bigfoot didn’t matter. None of those things seemed important compared to what he felt for Kiera.

  The real possibility that she wouldn’t return those feelings existed, torturing him. And he couldn’t ask her. He sat for hours and stroked her hand, willing her to care for him, wishing he could read her mind.

  She stirred and blinked in the hospital light. “Ben? Where’s Jeremy?”

  The vision of Sheriff Covey with Amanda wrapped in his arms came to mind. “He had his hands full when I left him out in front of the hospital. He’ll be in later, I imagine.”

  Kiera sat up on one elbow and stared at him. “You look like shit.”

  He snorted. “You got a helicopter ride out of the Trinities. I didn’t.”

  “What happened, Ben?” she asked him. Her voice was hoarse and low.